


Smallville Slavery AUs

by wheel_pen



Series: Miscellaneous Smallville Stories [2]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 22:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3226061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brief snippets from different modern slavery AUs, featuring the characters from Smallville.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> 2\. Underage warning: This story may contain human or human-like teenagers in sexual situations.
> 
> 3\. Inherent in the idea of slavery is dubious consent, and unhealthy relationships.
> 
> I hope you enjoy these stories. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

“You’re awfully opinionated today, Clark,” Lex observed coolly, setting up another shot at the pool table. “Normally that amuses me, but—“

“It’s not meant to _amuse_ you,” Clark interrupted. “I’m serious, Lex. I don’t think it’s right, and I’m sick of it!”

Lex glanced up from the pool table, mildly surprised. “Clark,” he began seriously, “I permit you some liberties I don’t grant to just anyone.” He swore the boy rolled his green eyes at that, and Lex continued in a louder tone, “But your attitude is getting tiresome—“

“My _attitude_?” Clark’s voice was sharp with indignation. “You think this is some kind of _phase_ —“

“That’s twice you’ve interrupted me.” Lex leaned on the pool cue, giving the younger man a stony look. “You’re crossing the line. I don’t want to hear anymore about it.”

Green eyes locked with blue-grey ones, and Lex did not care for the defiance that met him. It wasn’t like Clark to be difficult—usually he was easy-going, eager to please. But today one of his little friends—another liberty Lex permitted him—had gotten him worked up about her problems, and Clark’s natural inclination was to Do Something. It was… sweet, really. It wasn’t a response Lex saw everyday, certainly not in most of the people around him. But Clark was not exactly in a position to do much for his friend. All he could do was get angry—and test his _own_ boundaries.

And Lex couldn’t have that. No matter how beautiful those deep green eyes were.

Lex laid the cue aside. He didn’t need a blunt instrument to remind the boy who was in charge. And he didn’t want Clark to _think_ he needed it.

“Come here, Clark.” A test. An excuse.

The boy twitched, as if his instinct were to obey but he fought it back. He stayed where he was. A clear response.

“Come. Here. Now.” Just so there could be no mistake.

This time Clark was ready. He set his hands lightly on his hips, pushed his shoulders back. He had no intention of doing anything Lex ordered. The expression on his face said as much.

Lex smiled a little, a condescending little smile. He even looked away, rolled a ball across the pool table before meeting the boy’s eyes again. “Oh, Clark, you don’t want to do this,” he suggested.

Clark didn’t know what he wanted to do. And he was… uncertain of what his master was going to do if his defiance continued. But there was something thrilling in the uncertainty, in seeing Lex do what he did best, which was dominate. So Clark said nothing, but stayed on his side of the room and glared.

Clark was three or four inches taller than Lex, his build larger, but Lex had no intention of trying to intimidate him with physical power. That kind of ploy was too blunt, too short-lived, too easily worn away for Lex’s taste. No, his approach would be more subtle, more cutting, more permanent. His father had schooled him well in this.

“Clark, look around.” This, the boy did. Lex drifted closer, hands in his pockets, casual. “Look at where you are. Look at what you have every day. Do I keep you tied up? Do I keep you locked away? No, I let you run free. Most people wouldn’t do that.” Guilt, the first attack. An easy one with this particular target. “You have food, shelter, clothing. You have books, amusements.” Clark’s gaze was starting to flicker. Yes, he really was quite susceptible to the guilt. “And do I really ask anything so horrible in return?”

“Well, no, Lex, of course not…” He answered as if he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t let Lex appear to feel badly, after all.

Lex moved closer, running a hand idly over the desk, the back of the couch, deliberately avoiding prolonged eye contact. “You do an… _admirable_ job of tolerating my attentions. When I’m sure you must have your eye on someone else.”

“No!” Clark sounded quite emphatic about this. Then he blushed a bit. “I mean, not at all, you’re very…”

Lex looked up, eyes suddenly brighter. “I’m what?” His voice was colder, harder, and Clark suddenly realized how close he was. The boy barely stopped himself from backing away. “What am I, Clark?”

“You’re, um…” Lex was pleased to note that Clark no longer seemed to be worrying about the previous subject of conversation.

“What was that?”

“Well, you’re my master,” Clark finished, flashing his puppy dog grin.

_I will not succumb, I will not succumb_ , Lex told himself firmly. “Well I’m glad you remember that,” he pointed out sarcastically, icily. He was still advancing, and Clark had started retreating, almost unconsciously. “Because you’re not acting like you know it.”

Clark found a bit of spine somewhere and pulled it out. “Lex, I know you’re my master, I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t _disobey_ you, it’s just that Lana—“

“You wouldn’t disobey me?” Lex repeated with some disbelief. “You’re arguing with me, Clark. About another slave. About Lana, whom you’re _always_ talking about—“

“I don’t _always_ talk about—“

“Clark.” The look in Lex’s eyes was ice-cold, and the younger boy realized with a start that he’d interrupted again.

“Lex, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

“What are you, Clark?” Lex’s push forward was relentless. Clark couldn’t hold up to the intense scrutiny of that gaze.

“Your-your slave—“

“You’re _nothing_ , Clark.” The words were drawn out slowly, dipped in acid, and if it hurt Lex to say them, to see the look on the boy’s face, he never let it show. “You have _nothing_ that I don’t give to you. You are _nothing_ unless I say you are. Your parents are dead. Your home is ashes.” Lex might have slapped the boy across the face and not pained him as much as the last two sentences did, he could see that in the way his head hung, the way his jaw worked to keep his eyes dry. “If the merchant hadn’t brought you to me _first_ , you would have ended up in one of the big city brothels. Oh, you’re pretty enough,” Lex assessed coolly, impersonally, “they would have paid a lot of money for you. But a few years in a whorehouse in the red district would take that prettiness right out.”

Clark’s back hit the fireplace—he didn’t remember it being so close. He blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears from spilling over, but he couldn’t block out Lex’s voice, not just the words but the callous tone in it. As if he were just a—but he was, wasn’t he, just as Lex said, a slave with one purpose, one use, and if Lex seemed to thoroughly enjoy him for that use, well… That didn’t mean he was anything _more_.

“And once they couldn’t get anyone to pay for your… _favors_ anymore,” Lex continued harshly, “they’d sell you somewhere else—a cheaper house, or maybe the mines. And you’d go down to the pit every day, and you wouldn’t know if you were praying to avoid a cave-in… or to be caught in one, and end it all. As if they’d even bother to dig your bones out.” Lex was right in Clark’s space now. “But instead you have all this around you. And,” he added with just the necessary amount of arrogance, “you have _me_. I don’t just f—k you, Clark, I don’t just make you feel good. I _listen_ to you, don’t I, Clark, I listen to you talk about your parents and your farm, and how much you miss them, and I try to help you, don’t I, Clark?” He paused expectantly, and the boy nodded miserably, staring unseeing at his shoes. “So who am I, Clark?” The boy mumbled something inaudible, his throat thick with tears. “What?”

“My master.”

“And who are you?”

“Your slave.”

Lex stretched up to hiss in Clark’s ear. “Then get on your knees.”

Clark dropped straight down, immediately, and Lex watched him for a moment—the bowed head, the shoulders that were shaking slightly. It was emotional manipulation of the highest order, Lex knew, but if that’s what it took to keep his property in line… He ran his hand through the boy’s dark hair, enjoying the feel of the silky strands, the gesture almost soothing. The moment Clark began to relax into it, however, Lex tightened his grip painfully and yanked his head back until their eyes met. “ _This_ is your place, Clark,” he reminded him in a low tone. “If you ever move above it... it’s because _I_ allow it. Do you understand me?”

Clark hesitated before trying to nod, and the look in his eyes said he didn’t _quite_ believe Lex could mean all those harsh things he’d said. “Yes... master.”

“I don’t think you do,” Lex decided thoughtfully. He let Clark go with a jerk and turned towards the door. “Follow me,” he ordered, and the teenager started to stand. “I didn’t tell you to get off your knees,” Lex pointed out coolly.

For a moment Clark stared at him in disbelief, and Lex arched an eyebrow as if to say, “Do I have to come back over there?” Then the younger man hesitantly crawled on all fours across the tile floor to Lex’s feet. It was a sight Lex could only describe as... inspirational.

“Come on.” Lex led his companion into the hallway, Clark crawling after him awkwardly, trying to keep up and clearly hoping there was no one else around to see his current position. Lex smirked at his embarrassment. His servants had certainly seen worse. At least Clark was fully clothed. At the moment.

Lex looked back and saw the boy’s green eyes widen as they approached the door to the basement. He’d been thinking about taking Clark down there for a while now, after the boy had become a little more acclimated to his new surroundings and hopefully wouldn’t be completely traumatized by the experience. But, on the other hand, if there was _ever_ a time for a little discipline...

Lex unlocked the door and flipped on the light at the top of the stairs. The step at the bottom was visible, but the rest of the basement was shrouded in darkness. “Go on,” he urged Clark when the teenager paused in the doorway.

“How am I—“ Lex glanced at him questioningly. Clark swallowed and tried again in a slightly more subservient tone. “How am I supposed to get down the stairs like... this?”

“Carefully,” the older man replied shortly. “Get going.”

If Clark crawling across the floor to him was just wrong yet sexy, then Clark trying to crawl down a set of stairs was just wrong yet hilarious. Lex had to work hard to not burst into laughter as the boy maneuvered himself down the narrow stairs in what had to be the most awkward manner possible, rear first with alternate glances over his shoulder and down his front to keep from missing a step. The one time he dared throw a look back up at Lex, the older man barely managed to keep his expression stern and chastising. Fortunately Clark didn’t attempt a look again.

When Clark was about halfway down the stairs Lex stepped after him, locking the door behind himself. He tried not to rush the teenager—wouldn’t want him in a heap on the floor with a broken leg or something—but once Clark reached the bottom Lex skipped lightly down and commented, “Took you long enough.”

Clark opened his mouth to protest, rubbing his sore knees, but when Lex gave him a challenging look he closed his mouth and dropped his gaze. Good, Lex decided, he was learning a little bit. But just to hit the point home—so to speak...

Lex reached for another light switch he knew was nearby and illuminated a corner of the room which contained—to Clark’s evident shock and horror—a number of chains and rings firmly attached to the stone wall at various points. Lex let himself reminisce about a few happy times down here in the past, then faced Clark’s wide, uncertain eyes with a half-smirk. “Something wrong, Clark?” he asked leadingly.

“What are you going to do?” the teenager queried in a small voice.

Lex just broadened his grin to a full smirk. “Take off your shirt,” he ordered, and Clark complied quickly enough, peeling the red t-shirt off over his head and laying it neatly on the stairs behind him. Lex perused him leisurely—after a lifetime of farm work the boy hankered to be outdoors as much as possible, playing and doing what chores Lex allowed him, and it showed in the definition of his muscles and the bronze cast of his skin. It was a view Lex could enjoy for a long time.

“Come over here,” he finally told him. Lex turned away to study the chains and cuffs dangling from the wall, trying to decide which ones would be most suitable. He was confident Clark would obey him, and a moment later he felt the boy brush against his leg. Lex glanced down at the green eyes that watched him nervously, questioningly, and he gave Clark a smile that was, frankly, not at all reassuring. “Take your pants down.” Clark shivered a little—the stone walls seemed to suck all the heat out of the room—but he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pushing them down to his knees. The blue boxers they revealed followed shortly thereafter, when Lex gave them a significant look.

Two more views he’d be happy to stare at for quite some time, Lex decided, circling the teenager for a moment. The undirected movement made Clark edgy, and he flinched a little when Lex finally reached past him to grab a pair of padded cuffs from the wall. In an instant both the younger boy’s wrists were firmly encircled, with no resistance at all. Lex figured he was too surprised to react.

Lex stood back, crossing his arms over his chest and enjoying the scene before him, just for a moment. Clark tugged experimentally on the cuffs, as if he weren’t certain they were really locked. Oh, they were. And although Clark tended to be unusually strong, Lex was certain the hardened steel would hold him.

“Um, Lex?” Clark finally asked quietly, when it appeared Lex wasn’t going to move anytime soon. “What are you going to do _now_?”

Good question, Lex thought. Perversely, he decided Clark was now being _too_ submissive to really deserve what he had in mind, so... Time to rile him up a bit. “Did you know,” he began conversationally, “that I f----d your friend Lana the other day?” Clark drew back, eyes wide, as if Lex had taken a swing at him. “I was over at her owner’s house the other day, for a business lunch, and he offered her up as a sort of... _aperitif_ , I suppose.” Lex strolled around Clark, getting the full view, then turned and retraced his steps when he hit the chain attached to the wall—he wasn’t fool enough to step _over_ the chain. “She’s pretty enough I suppose,” he allowed, “but to be honest I don’t understand the attraction. She _is_ rather talented with her mouth...” Clark’s green eyes narrowed. “...but I prefer someone who isn’t quite so _automatic_ in their technique.” He patted Clark’s cheek lightly, his expression conveying that he’d given the boy a great compliment.

Clark was anything but pleased, however. Which was fine by Lex. “Lex, I never—Lana and I, we never—“ he insisted nervously.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that, Clark,” Lex told him, crouching down to look him in the eye. He let his hand drift down the teenager’s bare chest, watching the reaction his touch elicited. “Because you know that kind of thing just isn’t allowed. _I_ can f—k whoever I wanted, whenever I want, but you...” Clark groaned and bit his lip as Lex’s hand went lower. “You f—k only when _I_ say, with whom _I_ say.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex’s slave Clark is often a bad boy, and needs a special punishment.

            It was a good thing Clark was too surprised to resist Lex’s fury, because if he had fought back, even dug in his heels, he would have won. Lex really didn’t even think of that possibility, it seemed, just dragged the dark-haired teenager down the steps to the basement. When Clark felt the cold steel of handcuffs closing around his wrists, however, the sickening jolt of past memories snapped him out of his inaction and he began twisting away.

            “What are you doing?! Let me go!”

            Lex stepped back, eyes blazing. Clark yanked hard on his restraints and found the cuffs were attached to a three-foot chain firmly embedded in the wall. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that the castle had a dungeon—he just didn’t expect it to be _maintained_. And, he admitted, he hadn’t expected to find _himself_ in it—though really, why should his current master be any different than the previous ones? Maybe he’d shown more… patience up until now, but everyone eventually reached their breaking point.

            “Is this what you want?” Lex shouted at him, and Clark couldn’t help but cringe. “You want me to chain you up somewhere?! Like an animal that can’t control its own actions?!”

            “Well that’s the only thing that’s going to stop me!” Clark insisted in return, jerking on his tether. His wrists ached already. “I will go where I want, when I want!”

            “You will do what _I_ say, when _I_ say it!” Lex countered. “Don’t you _ever_ think anything different!”

            “Yeah? Make me!” It was a childish taunt, not to mention a foolish one, but it was the only response Clark knew to give. He knew what would happen next—it was what _always_ happened next.

            Sure enough, Clark saw Lex reach for his expensive leather belt, unbuckle it, slide it from the belt loops of his trousers with a dangerous hiss. “You need a _reminder_ of who’s in charge here?” Clark turned away as the first blow came, raising his arm to shield his head. The end of the belt caught him square across the back; the sting was blunted by the fabric of his t-shirt, but he knew it would still leave a mark—for a little while.

            “Get down on your knees!” Clark didn’t remember obeying, but suddenly the concrete floor was a lot closer and he was almost bent double, arms over his head. The next blow was lower on his back, burning the stretch of exposed skin between the bottom of his shirt and the top of his jeans. He let out a gasp at the pain, then quickly bit his lip. Yes, this was exactly what he had expected—and given Lex’s personality, it was probably going to last a long time.

            Clark tensed, anticipating the third strike; but it didn’t come. After a moment he chanced a peek at Lex over his arm. Lex was staring at the belt in his hand as if it were a live snake, both exciting and repulsing him. Clark knew he should keep quiet, but he never did that, did he—he always pushed. “What’s the matter?” he whispered. “Can’t you do it? Aren’t you going to show me who’s in charge?”

            The expression on Lex’s face was suddenly decisive—and somehow more calm, as if he’d just figured something out. He tossed the belt away and bent to unlock the handcuffs. “What are you doing?” Clark demanded. He knew beatings. He understood them. But not knowing what his master would do next was worse.

            “I _am_ going to show you who’s in charge,” Lex informed him coolly, stepping away as Clark automatically rubbed his freed wrists. “But I’m going to do it _my_ way. Not the way _you_ want.”

            “What _I_ want?” Clark repeated dubiously. Lex headed for the stairs. “What do you mean? Where are you going?”

            “I have work to do,” Lex told him dismissively. “I don’t have time to play mindgames with—my _toys_.”

            Clark glared at his back. Lex couldn’t just _ignore_ him. He’d been bad, he’d not only left the estate but gone into _town_ , been _seen_ by people. He deserved punishment for that. He had _thought_ Lex was strong enough to recognize that. Clark’s lip curled in disgust as Lex mounted the stairs. “That’s _it_?” he sneered, his contempt obvious. “ _That’s_ your idea of discipline? I think your dad was right, you can’t even manage _me_ , you could _never_ manage a big company!”

            It was a vicious stab, and Lex froze at the top of the stairs. Clark grinned in wicked satisfaction. _That_ ought to get a reaction.

            Lex turned around slowly, gazing down on the younger boy who still stood near the wall. “My father’s expecting a quarterly report on the factory by the end of the week,” he pointed out, his tone impassive. “I’ll have time to deal with you when I’m done with that.”

            “ _What_? A _report_?” Clark couldn’t believe his ears. He had seen his master eviscerate business rivals and old lovers with just a word, a glance. And now he was taking a raincheck on meting out some very well-deserved punishment because he had _homework_?

            “You’ll be fine down here, won’t you?”

            “Down here?” The implications of the innocently-asked question suddenly became clear to Clark. “No, no, wait—“ He raced for the stairs but hadn’t even reached the foot when Lex shut the door firmly behind him, locking it securely. Clark started pounding on it as soon as he had scrambled up the steps, but it was solid steel. “Lex! Lex, let me out of here! You can’t do this!” Clark was surprised to hear his voice break, to feel tears stinging his eyes. Left alone, all alone, in the basement? For how long? “No, no, please, Lex!” he pleaded, banging harder on the door. “Please don’t do this!”

            Clark thought he heard Lex’s voice on the other side of the door, and he tried to calm down so he could make out the words, but Lex apparently wasn’t interested in making sure Clark could hear him. And Clark was breathing too heavily anyway. The next thing he knew, there was utter silence on the other side of the door, silence he tried to force away by slamming his fist into the metal, shouting Lex’s name, demanding to be let out. There was no response.

            For _three days_ there was no response. As dungeons went this one was quite nice, with a bathroom, a kitchenette, a couch, even some books and a TV with crummy reception, so physically Clark was fine. Or could have been, if he’d bothered to eat any of the food in the kitchen or sleep on the couch or the pass the time by reading or watching TV. He drank some water when he couldn’t stand the thirst anymore, and he took a couple quick showers, but beyond that Clark spent his time crouched by the door, pounding on it, tapping on it, shouting and pleading and crying through it, unwilling to be gone from his post for long for fear _that_ would be the moment someone chose to check on him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark and his twin brother, Kal, are slaves belonging to Lex. They’ve just moved to Smallville and are pretending to all be brothers in a normal family while Clark attends high school.

“Wow, this place is really neat,” Clark exclaimed, staring wide-eyed around the crowded hallway of the high school.

Lana smiled but shot him a look that conveyed she didn’t quite see what he found so appealing. “Well, thanks,” she replied, smothering any sarcasm that threatened to burst through. “I guess I always thought of Smallville High as being kind of... ordinary.”

A blond girl in a reasonably tight blue shirt walked by, and Clark’s head whipped around to follow her. Lana was about to be slightly offended when a tall guy brushed past them on the other side, and Clark had the same reaction. Then Lana returned to her original assessment of the new kid she was showing around: _Cute, a little dorky, a lot weird._

“There’s so many people,” he marveled. “All my age...”

“Well, um, I guess that’s sort of... _typical_ for a high school,” Lana commented gently, leading him down the hall.

“I’ve always been home schooled,” Clark told her quickly, and Lana immediately felt like an a-s.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I mean, I didn’t realize that. This must be a big change for you, then.”

“Yeah,” Clark agreed, picking at the corner of a textbook he carried. “But I’m really excited about it,” he added, giving her a shy grin that, if she wasn’t careful, she could really get used to. “I’ve always wanted to go to a-a _real_ school.”

Lana wasn’t sure if Smallville High—Home of the Crows, Go Crows!—was going to live up to Clark’s expectations, but on the other hand, if he had nothing to compare it to... Well, it wasn’t that bad, really, she supposed. They didn’t have a lot of money to lavish on computer labs or AP classes, but small town school spirit kept the roof patched and the walls painted, and at least they didn’t have the problems with drugs and violence like schools in the larger cities.

“So—what’s your next class?” Lana asked quickly, peering at the schedule Clark held.

“Oh. It’s, um... World History,” he read, then grinned. “My _zoteri_ loves world history, he’ll—um...” Clark trailed off, realizing what he’d said.

“Your what?” Lana questioned, confused. “ _Zoteri_?”

“It means _brother_ ,” Clark answered hastily. _Stick to the story,_ he told himself firmly. “In our language.”

“Where are you from again, Clark?” Lana queried.

“Pittsburgh,” he told her firmly.

“Oh.” Clearly her curiosity had not been satisfied.

“My _older brother_ , Lex, loves world history,” Clark continued, hoping to distract her. “We moved here with him after he got a job in town. At the fertilizer plant.”

Oh, yes, Lana remembered the gossip that had been floating around the Talon for a while now. The local fertilizer plant—a stalwart of Smallville’s economy—had recently changed hands, from one faceless multinational company to another, and the word was some hotshot young executive had been shipped out to the wilds of Kansas to take it over.

“You must be a Luthor, then,” she surmised brightly, and Clark looked a little startled. “It’s a small town, news travels quickly,” she explained with a bit of a laugh. “Everyone’s watching the plant pretty carefully these days. There’s a lot of people in town whose livelihoods depend on it.”

Clark shrugged uncomfortably. “Yeah... Lex will be a good manager, I’m sure of it. If he tries... Anyway,” he added more lightly, “I really hope we get to stay here for a while. I like it a lot.”

“Well, don’t get _too_ excited about Smallville,” Lana warned him gently. “I mean, it’s really pretty ordinary. Mind-numbing, even, sometimes.”

“But it’s my first day at school, and I’ve already made a friend,” Clark countered, giving Lana a megawatt grin. For a moment she tried to determine if he was being facetious, if he was just trying to get into her pants, or if he really in fact meant that statement sincerely—but in the end she was overwhelmed by the sunny smile and just decided to get to know the new boy a little bit better before she made up her mind.

“World History is this way,” she told him, smiling back, as she led him around a corner.

** 

“So, Clark, do you think I could get an interview with your brother about his plans for the fertilizer plant?” Chloe asked forthrightly, and Lana rolled her eyes.

“Chloe,” she admonished. “Sorry,” she added to a taken-aback Clark, “Chloe is our resident journalistic attack dog.”

“Hey, I’ve got a vested interest in the plant,” Chloe protested, although she didn’t seem offended by either Lana’s comment or Clark’s silence. “My dad’s the foreman.”

“Oh,” Clark said, because he didn’t know what else to say. Chloe was very energetic and colorful, bouncing around the offices of the school newspaper like a magenta-turquoise-and-orange dervish. Clark thought he liked her, though—at least, she was _definitely_ not like anyone else he had ever met. “I could ask him, I guess,” he agreed, when Chloe turned her blue eyes on him expectantly, “but he said he wasn’t going to do any press right away...”

“Come on, Clark,” Chloe persuaded. “A little high school newspaper isn’t _press_. He’ll be on the front page, of course, but the article will be right above Lana’s treatise on the new floor mats in the gym and to the left of the lunch menu.” She grinned cheerfully and Clark smiled back. People here seemed very happy, he decided. And not just because they were _told_ to look that way.

“Well, I’ll definitely ask him,” Clark promised, a little carelessly. Well, surely _asking_ wouldn’t offend Lex too much. If he asked in the right _way_.

“Hey, Lana, Chloe,” a voice from the doorway said, and everyone turned to see Pete walk in and toss his bookbag in a nearby chair. “Hey, who’s the new fella in my seat?”

Clark jumped up immediately. “Oh, I’m really sorry, I didn’t realize—“

Pete grinned and held out a hand. “I’m just messin’ with you, man,” he assured him. Clark shook his hand a bit awkwardly—it was really a bit different than it looked on TV, he thought. “Pete Ross.”

“Clark Luthor.”

Pete’s face seemed to darken a bit at the name, startling Clark. “Luthor, huh? Like with the plant?”

“Pete, this is the _younger brother_ of the guy who’s taking over the fertilizer plant,” Lana pointed out, her tone warning him to be nice. Pete’s family had had issues with the new managers several years ago, when negotiations for the plant’s sale had begun, and he was still a little bitter about it. But Lana figured that was no reason to take it out on someone who had nothing to do with all that, especially since Clark had seemed so sweet all day long as she gave him the grand tour. Already he looked pained by Pete’s tone—pained, and maybe a little frightened, like he was afraid he’d done something wrong.

Fortunately Pete saw Lana’s point of view and relaxed a bit. “Well, that’s cool, man,” he told Clark, who smiled back tentatively. “First day, huh? How do you like Smallville High so far?”

“I love it,” Clark told them earnestly, and the three other teenagers glanced surreptitiously at each other for hints that he might be kidding. “There’s music classes and art classes and history and literature and science and math, and a _cafeteria_ , and a _gymnasium_...” He trailed off when he saw their expressions and blushed a little bit, embarrassed.

“Clark’s been home schooled up ‘til now,” Lana pointed out quickly, and Pete and Chloe rushed to nod as if that explained everything.

“Wow, home schooled, huh,” Pete commented awkwardly, trying to say _something_. “Hey, they say most home schooled kids get a really good education, you know? Not so much, um...” He looked desperately to Chloe and Lana for help, but their expressions clearly said, you got yourself into this, you get yourself out. “...um, being distracted by other kids. You know, causing trouble.” He knew it was lame, but Clark didn’t seem to notice.

“I don’t know about that,” the new boy informed them pleasantly. “My brother Kal, he’s always been kind of a troublemaker.”

“Oh, is Kal older or younger?” Lana asked, seizing on the opportunity to change the subject.

“Well, actually, we’re twins,” Clark revealed, “although technically Kal is seventeen minutes younger than I am.”

“Twins?” Lana questioned, perplexed. “Was he at school today?” She was pretty sure she hadn’t seen another Clark Luthor wandering the halls.

Clark squirmed uncomfortably and glanced away. “Um, no, actually, he’s sick. At the moment,” he told them.

“Oh. Well, tell him we all hope he feels better and can join you here soon,” Lana conveyed sweetly.

“Thanks.” Clark and Lana exchanged smiles that had Pete covering a smirk with his hand and Chloe rolling her eyes. “But, um...” Clark tensed again. “I don’t know if he’ll be coming to school here, he might stay at home and just be—tutored.”

“Is his illness serious?” Chloe asked, curiosity apparent.

Lana kicked her ankle. “Chloe,” she hissed.

“Oh, no, he’s just got a”—what did they call it here—“a cold today,” Clark assured them. “But, um...” He sighed in defeat. “I don’t know. He—he didn’t really want to move here, away from the city, and our _zo_ —older brother, Lex, said Kal didn’t have to actually _attend_ school if he was just going to make trouble. But I _wanted_ to come,” Clark finished, surveying his _three_ new friends with great satisfaction. “And I really like it.”

Pete smiled and shook his head, slapping Clark on the shoulder. “Just wait ‘til exams roll around and we’ll see how much you like it _then_ ,” he laughed. “Hey,” he added, squeezing the taller boy’s shoulder in a manly way, “you got some muscles under there, buddy. You gonna go out for basketball or football or something?”

“You have— _sports teams_?” Clark’s eyes lit up with delighted disbelief.

“Uh, _yeah_ ,” Chloe replied sarcastically. “Maybe you didn’t notice all the tasteful _Crow_ renderings littering the hallway?”

Clark didn’t seem to notice her tone, being too excited about the information he’d just learned. “What sports do you have _now_?” he asked eagerly.

“Um, football and cross-country, for guys,” Pete replied, still a little amazed by the new boy’s reaction. “Basketball tryouts will be starting in a couple weeks, though. You should go out for it, how tall are you? Like six-three?”

“Six-four,” Clark admitted, self-consciously. “I—I don’t think I’d be very good at it, though...”

“Well, there’s also wrestling and swimming in the winter,” Lana pointed out helpfully.

Clark shook his head. “I’m really looking forward to going to _all_ the games,” he assured them. “But I don’t think Lex would want me to _join_ the teams...”

“He got something against it?” Pete asked, a bit sharply. Lana gave him a look.

“He’ll say it takes up too much time,” Clark answered forlornly, missing Pete’s tone completely. “Especially since it’s outside regular school hours. He likes me to be home at night...” Clark cut himself off suddenly and blushed, for no reason the others could discern.

“The overprotective type, huh?” Lana guessed randomly.

Clark nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah, exactly,” he agreed, and Chloe shot Pete a look that said, are you buying this? “And, um, he said, you know, I have to keep on top of my schoolwork if I want to keep coming here, so...”

“Well, maybe he’ll change his mind after you’ve been here a while,” Lana suggested hopefully, and Clark rewarded her with a smile.

Chloe let the moment linger until she felt a bit nauseous, then interrupted, “Well, we’ve really got to get to work on the next issue, so...”

Clark glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh, yeah, it’s almost four, I have to get going. Lex’ll be coming to pick me up...”

“I’ll walk you to the parking lot,” Lana offered solicitously.

“Okay,” Clark grinned.

As soon as the pair had left the newspaper offices, Chloe bolted over to Pete, barely restraining her giggles. He rolled his eyes. “My dad says the Luthors have a whole _chromosome_ dedicated to scheming,” Pete commented, “but that kid _clearly_ didn’t get it.”

“Yeah, in Smallville, we practically _invented_ dorks,” Chloe snickered, “but this kid is, like, King Dork. Although,” she added, a thoughtful look in her eye, “he _is_ pretty cute. Could he and Lana _be_ any more goggly about each other?”

“Whatever,” Pete sighed, turning his computer on. “Let’s get to work.”

 **

“Thanks for showing me around today, Lana,” Clark was saying as they wandered out onto the sidewalk in front of the school. “I was _really_ lost.”

“Well—that’s what they assigned me for, to help you navigate the labyrinth that is Smallville High,” she replied, laughing a bit.

“Yeah.” There was a moment of mostly uncomfortable silence. “So, um, you work on the newspaper, huh?”

Lana rolled her eyes, but in a pleasant way. “Yeah. It’s Chloe’s baby, really, but me and Pete get to pitch in sometimes. It’s fun, just hanging out together, and, well, to be honest it’ll look pretty good on my college resume, so...”

“Yeah,” Clark answered, although he had no idea what she meant by that. “What else do you guys... do around here?”

“Well,” Lana hedged, “as you might guess from the name of the town, Smallville doesn’t really have nearly as much to offer as a big city, like—Pittsburgh. But, um...” She brushed a piece of hair out of her face, rocking back on her heels. “...there’s the Talon. It’s a coffee shop downtown.”

“A coffee... shop?” Clark said the phrase as though he were unfamiliar with it.

Lana had, admittedly, never been to Pittsburgh, but she had assumed they at least had a Starbucks or two. “Yeah, you know, we serve cappuccinos and tea and muffins and stuff, and people go there to study or hang out.”

“Wow. Really?” It occurred to Lana that Clark might be putting her on with this innocent-boy act, but his green, green eyes just seemed too sincere for her to believe that. “Wait a minute—‘we’?”

Lana smiled a little bit, embarrassed to be caught. “Yeah,” she admitted, “my aunt owns it, and I work there a lot, so I guess I’m a little biased...”

“I’ll definitely have to come by and check it out,” Clark assured her. “If that would be okay...”

“That would be great, Clark,” Lana answered, beaming up at him.

For a moment they enjoyed a much more comfortable silence, just smiling pleasantly, then the loud roar of a motor, followed by tires screeching, broke the stillness. Clark’s shoulders sagged and without looking around he predicted, “That’ll be Lex.”

Lana looked past Clark’s broad form to see the silver Porsche squealing to a stop in the parking lot near them. A well-dressed man, maybe five or six years older than Clark, sat behind the wheel, regarding them imperiously. He didn’t return Lana’s smile of greeting.

“Well,” Clark sighed, shouldering his bookbag, “I guess I better go. I’ll see you tomorrow, though, right?” he asked hopefully.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Lana assured him. “Have a nice evening. Good luck on that algebra homework!”

“Thanks.” Clark grinned one last time at her before turning away and jogging towards the Porsche. _Still cute, still a little dorky, less weird,_ Lana decided happily.

 **

Clark slid across the leather seat of the expensive car and closed the door firmly behind him. The seat was already adjusted back as far as it would go, but he just had a feeling these kinds of cars weren’t meant for someone like him. Lex, on the other hand—lean, graceful, and tall but not freakishly so, like Clark—fit the vehicle so well it was almost like his natural habitat.

Lex quirked a corner of his mouth up at Clark and started to lean across the seat to him. Hurriedly Clark glanced out the window at Lana, who was still watching them, and the handful of other students who were still on the grounds, and he yanked his bookbag up to block Lex’s approach.

“Is there a problem?” Lex asked, voice tightly controlled as he analyzed the affront.

“You’re supposed to be my _brother_ ,” Clark reminded him in a low voice, in case anyone around could possibly hear. “Brothers don’t—kiss each other.”

“No?” Lex leaned back in his own seat and shifted the car into drive.

“Not around here, anyway,” Clark added with a sigh as the Porsche rocketed out of the parking lot. “And not like— _you_ were going to.”

Lex grinned, eyes firmly on the road. “Who was that nubile young creature you were conversing with?”

“Lana,” Clark answered, in a tone that caused Lex to glance sharply at him. “She showed me around school today.”

“Did she now.” There was a slight edge to his voice, and Clark knew he’d have to be careful what he said about her.

“She was assigned by the principal,” he added defensively.

Lex seemed to relax a bit. “I hope she was friendly to you.”

“Yeah, she was nice.” Clark tried to sound dismissive. No need to make Lex regret his decision to send Clark to school after the first _day_.

 ** 

“...just can’t believe you did so well on that history test,” Lana was marveling as she stood outside the school building with Clark. “Especially since you just started two weeks ago.”

Clark shrugged, embarrassed by the praise. “Well, I had most of that stuff on Ancient Rome before.” He would have to be sure he didn’t do quite so well in the future—Lex wouldn’t want him drawing too much attention, after all.

“Your parents must have been very thorough in their teaching,” Lana suggested, tugging her cardigan around her a little more tightly. Clark liked to wait outside for whoever was supposed to pick him up, and the chill October breeze didn’t seem to bother him much. He apparently hadn’t noticed Lana’s discomfort, so she wasn’t going to say anything.

“Well, we had tutors,” Clark told her off-hand, and she was thrown for a moment before remembering that the modestly-clad boy in front of her was actually the son of a _very_ wealthy man.

The roar of a motor—louder and somehow more obnoxious than one of Lex’s expensive cars—cut off Lana’s reply and they both jumped as a young man on a motorcycle careened through the parking lot, jerking to a stop near them. Clark’s face lit up and he ran over to the bike, eyes wide and admiring. “Aw, _cool!_ ” he exclaimed. “You got it!”

The boy in charge of the bike took off his sunglasses and Lana was startled to see Clark’s face, with the same dark curly hair, big green eyes, and beaming grin. _Must be Kal,_ she decided. “Yeah, Big Daddy finally came through,” he replied proudly, running his hands over the handlebars carefully. “Ain’t she sweet?”

Clark remembered Lana standing a few feet away and waved her over quickly. “Lana, this is my brother, Kal,” Clark introduced. “Kal, this is my friend, Lana.”

Kal leaned forward, resting his black leather-clad arms on the bike, but made no move to shake hands. “Well hello there, Friend Lana,” he greeted flirtatiously. Clark’s grin, yes, but with more of a mischievous smirk, and Clark’s eyes but with more than a glint of rebellion, Lana thought. But if it weren’t for their attitudes—and their outfits—she would definitely have trouble telling them apart. “I have heard a _disturbing_ amount about you since Glow Bug here started attending that prison camp.” He nodded disparagingly at the school building.

Clark blushed fiercely. “Kal!” His brother was, of course, not sympathetic to his embarrassment.

Lana’s cheeks got a little pink, too, but she blamed that on the wind. “Glow Bug?” she inquired with polite confusion.

“It’s a long story,” Clark assured her, as Kal laughed. “A really long, boring story.” Kal winked at Lana as if to promise he would tell her the story at the first opportunity. Clark decided to change the subject. “Is the bike just like you wanted?”

“Down to the last spec,” Kal confirmed, obviously deeply pleased. “I’ve been racing up and down the driving track all day, so Lex finally said I could come into town and pick up _the baby_.” He nudged Clark teasingly with his elbow.

Clark nudged back. “I’m older than you,” he reminded his brother.

“Yeah, but I’m cuter,” Kal shot back, and Clark rolled his eyes. Lana covered her smile with her hand. As an only child, she’d never had the easy back-and-forth interaction that came with a sibling you’d known almost your whole life. Yet another tragedy to ascribe to her parents’ death in a car accident when she was three: she never had the chance to be an older sister. “Anyway, hop on, Junior,” Kal continued. “Lex was anxious that I get you back home.” Lana thought that was a slightly odd comment to make—and she also thought she saw Clark squeeze Kal’s sides warningly as he climbed onto the bike behind him. But that might have been her imagination. “Anxious to hear about your day at school,” Kal added smoothly, sliding the sunglasses back on.

“Bye, Lana,” Clark said quickly, as Kal revved up the engine. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Bye, Friend Lana,” Kal told her.

“Bye!” Lana waved to them both as the motorcycle sped away. Then she hurried back inside, where it was warm, and ran off to the newspaper offices to tell Chloe and Pete who she’d met.

**

Kal barged into the study, letting the heavy wooden doors bang off the walls on either side of them. Lex looked up, startled, from the pool table, and barely had time to straighten his stance before Kal had him pressed against the wall, the pool cue painfully at his throat.

“What did you do to him?” he growled, his green eyes bright with fury.

“Let me go,” Lex ordered, his voice radiating as much danger as Kal’s, but more controlled.

For a long moment they stared each other down. Lex knew the instant he started to think that Kal might not obey him was the instant he lost, so he merely glared back, concentrating on breathing evenly despite the pool cue shoved against his Adam’s apple, on keeping the hands that gripped Kal’s leather jacket steady. Finally Kal gave in, stepping back. Lex rubbed his throat and straightened his collar, then let his gaze flick down to the cue Kal still held. Reluctantly the teenager held it out, and Lex made a production of carefully replacing it in the rack. He didn’t need a blunt instrument to deal with Kal. (Although sometimes one made things more fun.) He turned back to Kal with another significant look from his blue-grey eyes, and though the teenager was almost shaking with contained rage, he dropped to his knees before Lex and bowed his head.

Once Kal had assumed the appropriate submissive position, Lex responded to his accusation. “I didn’t do anything to him.”

Kal’s head snapped up, eyes blazing. “Clark is up in our room, sobbing his eyes out,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “He won’t tell me what happened. He _always_ tells me.”

“You know what happened,” Lex reminded him angrily, pacing slightly before the kneeling boy.

Kal rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you caught him and that Lana chick kissing. Big deal.”

Lex paused and met his eyes. “She was _straddling_ him on the couch. It was about to _become_ a big deal.”

“So you threw her out and—what? You took the belt to him?” Kal’s tone was vicious, but Lex stared him down.

“I would _never_ lay a hand on Clark in anger,” he replied fiercely. “He could never take that, it would break him.” Lex shook his head. “I yelled at him,” he finally admitted, and Kal’s shoulders sagged. “I told him he couldn’t go to school for the rest of the week. And I told him he’s no longer allowed to see his friends except in public places, during normal hours.” To Clark those restrictions would be devastating.

They were quiet for a moment. Then Kal pointed out, softly, “You never should have let him go to school, you know.”

Lex sighed and leaned on the pool table, exhausted. “I know,” he agreed in resignation. “I know I shouldn’t have. If I were _smart_ ,” he added acidly, knocking a pool ball against another with a _crack_ , “I would keep both of you locked up in the basement all day, with some books and a PlayStation.”

Kal shook his head with a rueful smile. “We would be miserable.” Lex’s father always said he was too soft on the twins— _shoqes_ should be treated with a firm hand and a wide belt, or whatever other object met the _zoteri’s_ fancy, according to Lionel Luthor. But Lex wanted them to be happy—to a point, at least.

“Yeah,” Lex agreed, sighing heavily. “But now he’s miserable anyway.” After a moment he turned back to Kal and straightened, looking him over with a cool gaze. “Speaking of miserable,” he began, and Kal dropped his eyes uncomfortably to the floor. He heard rather than saw Lex’s long fingers undoing the buckle of his expensive leather belt and shivered involuntarily—partly in fear, but mostly in anticipation. “You assaulted me,” Lex pointed out, letting the end of the belt dangle where Kal’s downcast eyes could see it. “That’s a _very_ serious offense.”

“Yes, sir,” Kal replied quickly, licking his lips.

Lex suddenly grabbed the collar of the boy’s jacket and hauled him to his feet, then bent him hard over the pool table. “You can wipe that smirk off your face, boy,” he growled, hands tight in Kal’s dark hair, pressing him into the felt of the table top. “After an outburst like that, _I’m_ the only one who’ll be getting any satisfaction for a _very long time_.”

**

“Clark?” Pause. “Clark.” Pause. “Clark!”

The teenager finally looked up from the textbook he was absorbed in, eyes slightly glazed. “Um... yes?”

Lex refrained from commenting on the boy’s cram session and instead informed him, “I want to talk to you and Kal.” He noticed Clark wasn’t making any move to stand. “Now.”

The boy glanced back at the textbook and the notebook he was scribbling in. “Um, Lex,” he began tentatively, “I’ve got this test tomorrow, and...”

“Clark.” Lex’s expression was very clear, and the boy sighed and pushed his chair back.

“Okay,” he conceded. Lex frowned and turned back down the hallway, making sure Clark was following him. The boy shouldn’t _agree_ to Lex’s commands—he should just _obey_ them.

Lex stopped at the door of the lounge when he heard the sounds of Kal’s favorite violent videogame blaring away. Something about deliberately crashing cars into each other as fast as possible. “Kal!” He had to almost shout to be heard above the din.

“Yeah?” the boy called back, not looking away from the TV.

“I want to talk to you and Clark.”

“Okay.”

Lex sighed when he saw that Kal also was reluctant to cease his activities. Fine. One battle at a time. He could talk to them in the lounge. Lex entered the room and settled himself on the couch, with Kal on the floor at this feet, gazing avidly at the nauseating display of color and motion on the screen. Clark sat down on the couch next to Lex—who saw that he’d brought his textbook with him.

“I need to talk to both of you about—Kal, pay attention for a minute!”

“I’m paying attention!”

Lex glanced sideways at Clark. “Clark, put the book away.”

“I have this test tomorrow, Lex—“

“Kal, turn that d—n thing down!” The noise level decreased slightly. Slightly. “Now, what I wanted to tell you was—Put the book _away_ , Clark!”

“I just need to finish going over this chapter—“

“ _Rowrr! Bshhh! Pshhh!_ ”

Lex closed his eyes for a minute to get a hold of himself. Then he leaned down and deftly unplugged the videogame console. The screen went dark and the room was filled with blissful silence, for approximately two milliseconds.

“S—t, Lex! I was _winning_!” Kal whined furiously.

Lex was unmoved. “Turn around and face me,” he ordered, grabbing Kal’s collar. Then he looked at Clark, who was surreptitiously holding his book open a few inches. Striking like a cobra, Lex slammed the book shut on his hand. Clark yelped more in surprise than pain and gave Lex a guilty stare. Kal’s stare was more sullen as he sat on the carpet with his back to the motionless TV, his t-shirt still in Lex’s grasp. “You two are turning in to spoiled brats,” he judged seriously, glancing between the two of them. “The next time I tell you to do something, you shut the f—k up and _do_ it. Understand?” They both nodded, Kal after Clark.

Lex released them both and settled back on the couch. “Now,” he continued pleasantly, as though the disciplinary interlude hadn’t occurred, “what I wanted to tell you is that tomorrow night, we’ll be having a guest for dinner.”

“A _guest_?” Clark seemed reasonably excited, Kal less so.

“Helen,” Lex specified, and this time both boys frowned.

“Why are you bringing _her_ _here_?” Kal asked petulantly.

“It was her idea,” Lex admitted. “She wants to meet you two. My little brothers.” He gave the last phrase the irony it deserved. “So I want you both to behave yourselves,” he went on sternly. “Remember she’s a _local_ , and you know what you can’t say or do in front of her. _Any_ problems will be dealt with _severely_ ,” Lex promised.

“I don’t know, Lex,” Clark hedged nervously. “I thought you didn’t like strangers in the house...”

“Can’t I just be _sick_ that night?” Kal insisted.

“I’m not _asking_ you,” Lex clarified firmly. “I’m _telling_ you, Helen’s coming over for dinner tomorrow. And you’re _both_ going to be there, and you’re _both_ going to behave. Understood?”

Clark started to nod, but Kal asked snidely, “Will she be staying the night?”

Clark blanched, as if he hadn’t considered that possibility. “You can’t let her stay the night, Lex!” he pleaded, taking the older man’s arm.

“Yeah, don’t let her stay the night, Lex,” Kal mimicked, rising on his knees to take Lex’s other arm. “Clark was hoping _he’d_ get to warm your bed that night!”

Clark blushed and glared at his brother. “Was not! Um, necessarily...”

“Was to! You’re turning all red!”

“That’s because you’re being an—an _a-s_!”

“Oooh, you’re naughty, you said a bad word! _So_ rebellious—“

“SHUT UP!” Lex shook them both off and glared them down. “Either of you say _one more word_ and you’ll have to sit on pillows at the dinner table tomorrow night!” They stayed quiet. “Helen is coming over for dinner. She _might_ be spending the night. If I choose to have Helen over for dinner and spend _every_ night with me, then _that_ is the way it’s going to be.” He stood, giving the twins his coldest gaze. “And if you’re both going to act like children, there’s going to be a little more discipline around here from now on.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex is a fast-healing slave to Kal, who likes things rough.

            Lex raised his hands, unwilling to make any move to protect himself or threaten his client. The lack of reaction made Kal all the more furious and he lifted his own arm, intending to strike. Instead he paused, chest heaving, eyes blazing, for long enough that Lex taunted him flatly, “Go on. Do it.”

            Kal never wanted to do what anyone else either expected or wanted, so he dropped his arm and took a step back. He certainly wasn’t going to take orders from a hooker, anyway.

            Lex propped himself up on his elbows on the mattress and regarded his client with a small degree of curiosity. “What’s this? Self-restraint?” His tone was deliberately mocking. “I thought that’s why you were here.”

            “What do you mean?” Kal demanded, looking around for his clothes. His father would be back soon, and he _definitely_ wouldn’t expect Kal to be ready and waiting for him.

            Lex quirked an eyebrow. “That’s why most people come to me,” he pointed out. “Because they don’t _have_ to be restrained.” Kal gave him a look of confusion, and Lex wondered if, somehow, he really didn’t know. “I heal quickly,” he explained simply. “You can do whatever you want to me, and the next day, I’ll be ready for you to come back and do it again.” The words alone were enticing enough for most people; he didn’t bother forcing his tone to match them.

 

******

            Lex woke up and immediately wished he hadn’t, because with consciousness came pain. For a moment he lay on his side and ached, then he realized that the discomfort was only going to grow the longer he remained in that position. Kal was behind him, seemingly out cold, sleeping off whatever he’d been flying on the night before, and Lex hoped he stayed that way for a good long while.

            Sitting up was agony, so he stood, which was near-impossible and accomplished only with the aid of the bedposts. The actions necessary to draw his pants back up from his ankles and fasten them around his waist were drawn-out and torturous, every muscle berating him for moving, every tissue protesting his situation. That the clothing was sticky and cold made it all the less appealing, but he couldn’t go out in the hall stark-naked after all. Turning back to the bed to look for his shirt, Lex was startled to see blood on the sheets—his own, he realized—and he began to worry about what, exactly, the cold stickiness consisted of.

            The shirt, he saw, was ripped into several pieces, scattered over the floor and bed. Couldn’t wear that, could he. Lex hobbled over to the closet, trusting that as careless as Kal was with his clothes, he wouldn’t notice one shirt missing. It was far too big, of course, but with some judicious tucking and rolling of the sleeves, Lex decided he looked passable. Not that he was going very far—just down the hall to his room, where hopefully he could shower and sleep and heal up before Kal came ‘round to play again.

            He took a quick glance at himself in the mirror and again wished he hadn’t. Well, maybe there wouldn’t _be_ anyone in the hallway, to see him stagger past with pale-as-death skin, bloodshot eyes, and angry blue-black bruises that were impossible to hide. Lex straightened shoulders and lifted his chin, although it definitely hurt to do so; he was going to walk out that door, he was going to walk to his room, he was going to lock the door behind him, and he was going to heal himself. Just like he always did. He’d survived worse. Although it had been a while.

            Taking a final glance back at Kal, to make sure he was still sound asleep, Lex slipped out the door of the bedroom and limped slowly, very slowly, along the hallway, making liberal use of the wall and any furniture lining it. Just a few more feet... okay, twenty... but now there were only nineteen...

            “Lex!” D—n. Lex couldn’t spare the energy or the flexibility to turn his head; besides, he knew the young woman would be catching up to him soon. “Lex! Oh my G‑d!”

            “Good morning, Miss Sullivan,” Lex managed, dragging himself forward another step. He pushed away from the hall table and tried to walk on his own. Or perhaps standing on his own was good, too.

            “Oh, G-d, Lex,” she said again, as if the repetition would help. “Let me—let me call a doctor—“

            “I’m fine, thank you, Miss Sullivan,” Lex assured her, although that was an obvious lie. Only eighteen feet now.

            “No, you’re—Here, let me help you.”

            “I can manage—“ Lex hissed in pain as the blond slid under his arm, his fractured ribs protesting her proximity.

            “Oh, G-d, Lex, I’m sorry,” she told him, trying to ease up.

            He knew she only wanted to help, and that in itself meant a lot to him. Even if it might be more painful in the end. “It’s alright, Miss Sullivan,” he replied. “Thank you, I was just going to my room...”

            Leaning heavily on the young woman Lex found he was making better progress. He feared she was doing most of the work, though. “Lex, you really need to have a doctor look at you,” Miss Sullivan told him.

            He didn’t want to argue with her. He shouldn’t, anyway. “I heal quickly, Miss Sullivan,” he reminded her through gritted teeth. “That’s why I’m here, after all.”

            There was a long pause, during which Lex counted off three more feet. “Kal’s not—he’s not a _bad_ person,” Miss Sullivan said suddenly, hesitantly, a little defensively. Lex would have given her a perplexed look he had felt he could turn his head safely. “It’s just—he and Lucas set each other off, you know?” Lex knew. “And when he gets... high, he just forgets himself.”

            “As I said, Miss Sullivan,” Lex told her, pausing for a breath, “that’s why I’m here. I’ll be fine in a day or two. Someone else would be worse off.”

            Lex heard rather than saw the tears on the young woman’s face and he really hoped she didn’t start sobbing before she got them to his room. Only eleven feet to go... “Lex, he’s just not—You don’t have to—He shouldn’t _hurt_ you!” she finally blurted.

            Lex resisted the urge to say, once again, that _that_ was why he was there. He supposed it was nice that Miss Sullivan was sympathetic towards him, but really—her emotions were wasted. She might as well feel sorry for the cars Kal crashed, or the punching bag in his gym. Lex had to admit—to himself, just for a moment—that he _was_ a little... disappointed? Let down? Disillusioned? about Kal’s behavior, but honestly... he was more surprised that it hadn’t happened earlier.

            She pulled a little too hard and a wave of pain stabbed through Lex’s chest. As it finally ebbed away he ground out, “Better me than _you_.” She gasped, shocked or horrified or some other emotion Lex really wasn’t in the proper state to analyze, and he decided he had overstepped his bounds. “I apologize, Miss Sullivan,” he told her quickly, wincing as a muscle in his leg made its displeasure known. “That was inappropriate of me.”

            “Lex!” She shook her head, which didn’t do his balance any good. Her hair tickled his nose, smelling faintly of expensive strawberry wash. “You have nothing to apologize for! Just because you’re Kal’s—“ She couldn’t seem to find the right word, or maybe she just didn’t want to say it. “—that doesn’t mean he can hurt you if he wants.”

            Of course it did. Although Lex was not surprised that Miss Sullivan had emancipationist sympathies.


End file.
